


caught

by orphan_account



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Character Study, Dom/sub, Dominance, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear, First Time, Heavy Angst, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Not Beta Read, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painful Sex, Rape Aftermath, Self-Worth Issues, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Sobbing, TouGino, Virgin!Ginoza Nobuchika, i'm sorry gino-chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: „Understood?“, Tougane repeated, lowly murmuring against his skin.„Yes“, Ginoza whispered, voice unsteady and broken; and he obeyed —standing totally still as Tougane slid his shirt over his shoulders from where it fell to the ground, exposing more of his skin to the flat‘s cool air.
Relationships: Ginoza Nobuchika/Tougane Sakuya
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	caught

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i‘ve never written anything like this before; and yes, i‘ve started questioning my mental sanity in the process.
> 
> i hope you‘ll enjoy reading this either way — also, this fic is not beta read, so let me know if you find any mistakes!
> 
> // massive trigger warning: do not read if you are affected by anything concerning rape, sexual violence, pain or emotional abuse. you‘ve been warned.
> 
> — german version available! if you want to read it, feel free to contact me via twitter / @ginoskanshikan :)

The numbers, dates, names of the file on the screen in front of him seemed wrong; the letters were shining too bright against the apartment‘s dullness, the inversion of lies and facts in Ginoza‘s head were too much of a surprise and then, again, somewhat entirely anticipated. He sighed in resignation and wondered just why he had trusted Tougane in the first place —

had it been because of the cigarettes, the dark hair and restless eyes, because it had been too easy to take his cynic remarks as a substitute for the ones of a long-gone colleague? He knew that Akane felt that way; it had been her eyes to tell him that —

_you miss him too, don’t you?_

_I do._

Akane, he remembered, dull fear rising up in his chest, fitting a cold hand around his heart, rendering it heavy to breathe. He had to inform her about his discovery as fast as he possibly could, but it didn’t feel safe to just send her the data, not right now; he wanted to see her and touch her and make sure that she kept her guard up, that she was safe because who else did they have if not one another?

He typed a short message, then left his apartment to descend to Division One’s office.

The lingering smell of smoke in the hall was familiar and confusing at the same time; it originated from Tougane‘s flat, strong and still warm. The enforcer just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his hair damp from showering. The unmistakable smirk on his lips seemed dangerous now.

Ginoza flinched at the sight, because in a strange way, it felt as though Tougane _knew_ — which wasn‘t possible, so he continued walking, hastily so, the feeling in his chest growing ever tighter —

„Good evening, Ginoza-san. You look upset. Has anything happened?“

His voice was dark and husky, holding a teasing undertone that made Ginoza‘s heart jump in alarm. He stopped.

„Someone has just reached out to me with an important task to be carried out asap. Thank you very much for your concern, Enforcer Tougane, but I will have to hurry up now“, he managed to reply, lending as much emphasis as possible to every single word; then he turned around again, a bit too quickly maybe, because he heard Tougane approaching —

„I think I haven’t articulated myself clearly enough. I do know what you just found out, and I am pretty sure about to whom you want to pass that information on. I guess you‘ll understand that I can‘t let you get through with this.“

„Well, I can’t help but wonder for how long you anticipated acting like this would work? Such delicate details tend to reveal themselves rather quickly.“

It occurred to Ginoza one second too late that making sneaky remarks wasn‘t the best way to get out of this situation. Tougane was standing directly behind him now, blowing smoke into his right ear, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.

„So you really don‘t understand. What a pity.“

The wrapping paper of the cigarette crackled as he stubbed it out in Ginoza‘s hair, small particles of grey ash floating through the air and settling down on his shoulder. Time slowed down when he grabbed Ginoza‘s left arm, pulling him through his own apartment‘s door, slamming it shut behind them.

„What are you—?!“

Tougane pressed a hand to his lips, rough and calloused and smelling like smoke, and shoved Ginoza into the wall next to the entrance, capturing both of his hands behind his back; when Ginoza tried to bite him, he kicked him in the shin, hard.

Ginoza cried out, sharp pain momentarily clouding his senses, the sound muffled by Tougane‘s hand. The older man pressed him against the wall using his whole body, tightly gripping Ginoza‘s wrists.

„There‘s no point in struggling. Just reconcile yourself with the fact that this is your fault, all of this — but, of course, what would one expect from a worthless, meaningless dog like you?“

Tougane laughed, voice rough and husky, in a way that made him sound gone entirely crazy, Ginoza thought. He knew already that nothing of the following would come as a surprise. He had been too slow, had noticed too late how distinctly _off_ the person before him was, and he had to pay the prize for it.

It was only natural.

Still, it seemed unfair to him. Tougane smelled like cigarettes and sweat and it was only a sad mockery of what could have been, one of life‘s ironic remarks, a reference to a best friend who wanted to be more and then left and everything was wrong again, so _wrong_ , out of place —

but it was Tougane‘s hands fiddling open the buttons of his shirt, and his lips tasted like ash and salt when he hungrily pressed them to Ginoza‘s — his fingertips, tracing his abdomen, were cold, and Ginoza flinched; he wanted to _get away_ , to escape, but there was a wall behind him —

panic arose inside of him, his breath becoming fast and shallow, his view getting hazy, and he wanted to scream —

Tougane placed two fingers beneath his chin, forcing him to lift his head so that their eyes met, crystalline forest green against bittersweet chocolate. This time, his voice was low and threatening, reinforcing every single one of his words, letting become clear that there would be no mercy.

„All you can do to make this easier for you is keeping still because I promise that I will notice and make you pay for every move you make. Understood?“

Ginoza swallowed thickly, blinking twice, thrice, to clear his view; then unbelievingly shook his head.

Promptly, Tougane sunk his teeth into the exposed skin of his neck, not drawing blood but eliciting pain — Ginoza threw his head back against the wall, eyes closed, gasping sharply.

„Understood?“, Tougane repeated, lowly murmuring against his skin.

„Yes“, Ginoza whispered, voice unsteady and broken; and he obeyed —

standing totally still as Tougane slid his shirt over his shoulders from where it fell to the ground, exposing more of his skin to the flat‘s cool air. He didn‘t move as Tougane kept on kissing him, sharp teeth and chapped lips messing with his own until there was blood on his tongue, the metallic taste lingering in his mouth.

It hurt — of course it hurt, because it had to, because everything that happened to Ginoza Nobuchika hurt. He was fearful of what came next, but simultaneously felt resignation.

_His fault._

„You are worthless. Society rejected you in the moment your crime coefficient rose too high, and whoever you think was close to you didn‘t even bother to wait for that. People left you, people betrayed you, just because you are weak. You don‘t matter to anyone.“

Tougane imprinted the words onto his skin; his paint was pitch-black fury, the hate that had been waiting inside of him; he used his hands and fingernails and teeth to leave evidence of humiliation and shame on Ginoza‘s skin until the younger man felt something break —

the truth was numbing, it always was, and now it was a fact that he didn‘t deserve what life had denied him all that time. Love, tenderness, feeling secure, coming home; all of that wasn‘t for him just because his mere existence was too much.

„I, on the other hand, am merely giving you a chance to prove your usefulness. Show me for once that you can endure something. Do the right thing. This is what you get — you don‘t get anything else, you‘re a latent criminal, a bloodhound that can‘t do his work properly. Now, this is your chance. Don‘t waste it.“

Tougane took a step back, his lips curling up into a smug grin, his eyes hungrily tracing Ginoza‘s shaking body, stopping to admire his burning lips, then staring directly into horrified green eyes. Ginoza didn‘t move even though his captor had stepped away; he remained still even as Tougane pressed a thumb to the corner of his mouth, forcing it open and demanding entrance until Ginoza could taste ash on his tongue. Tougane chuckled huskily, his gaze still fixed on the younger enforcer as he used his hair to wipe his fingers clean. Ginoza felt sick, standing still despite every muscle in his body telling him to _run away_ —

„You‘re beautiful when you‘re compliant“, Tougane said, the tone of his voice all but soothing.

The next moment, he was dragging Ginoza across the room, violently shoving him against the small kitchen‘s counter; then he spun him around, ripping the already loosened tie from Ginoza‘s neck and tightly tying his hands together so that they were uselessly resting in front of him on the countertop. He didn‘t quite get why — Tougane knew for sure that he wouldn‘t even try to defend himself at this point — but it didn’t matter, and he tried to catch his breath again, but didn‘t manage to, not with _that man_ all pressed up against him, utterly and disturbingly close, his already hard length clearly noticeable even through several layers of fabric —

then hands at his own belt‘s buckle, metal clicking on metal, his trousers and pants being pulled to the ground, exposing him completely. Ginoza gasped sharply as Tougane fit a cold hand around his own limp member, teasingly stroking it a few times, then stepping back to get rid of his own clothes.

Ginoza didn‘t know how long it took him — he had lost track of the time, of everything — because this was out of his control, because it felt like he could step out of his mind and watch from the outside so that it wouldn‘t hurt — it would, and he couldn‘t even brace himself, couldn‘t anticipate any of the older enforcer‘s actions as he didn‘t dare to glance over his shoulder. Blindfolding him wouldn‘t have made much of a difference.

He heard the sound of a package being ripped open and a condom stripped on. Then there were cold fingers on his neck, tracing the muscles of his back, sending shivers down his spine that delivered a strange mixture of fear and total dominance and _you‘re mine_ and that weren‘t entirely unpleasant even though they should‘ve been —

then again, the warmth of Tougane‘s torso pressing flush against him, skin on skin; he aligned himself carefully and deliberately slow, hitching Ginoza up a bit and making him bend down onto the counter even further; then positioning his cock right at the younger man‘s entrance, its head throbbing in anticipation, teasingly pushing against the sensitive skin.

Ginoza knew that he was enjoying this — the way his skin was on fire, his heart wanted to run a marathon, his whole body was shaking in fear and panic — that this was just Tougane‘s twisted and dark urge to hold power over someone, anyone; over _him_ —

without any further warning, Tougane forced his way inside, both hands gripping tightly at Ginoza‘s hips, keeping him firmly in place when he gasped in pain because _fuck it hurt so much_ ; and suddenly, that voice was next to him again.

„Take a deep breath.“

Low and confining, the words barely to be heard; but Ginoza obeyed.

The world fell silent for what could have been minutes but was most likely a split second.

Tougane had slammed into him, mercilessly so — pain drowned out all of his senses, made his view go completely white; and it took a few moments for Ginoza to realize that he had been screaming.

Tougane lifted his head by the hair, ruthlessly silencing him with a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing, tongue invading his mouth and messing with his own, denying him the air to breathe —

the older enforcer had begun to rhythmically pound into him, long thrusts going too deep, wreaking havoc on the tight skin of his virgin hole, eliciting pain that went beyond everything Ginoza had ever experienced, occasionally brushing his prostate and leaving him confused with heat and the strange sensation of arousal whirling in his stomach.

 _So this is what it feels like_ , he thought between cries of pain — he couldn’t even recognize the desperate voice as his own — _this is what sex feels like._

Maybe it shouldn‘t, but he didn‘t know, and it felt somewhat unfair and distinctly _wrong_ and _he didn‘t deserve better._

He didn‘t notice that he was crying until Tougane‘s thrusting became uncoordinated, erratic, joining the twisted symphony of labored breathing and the high screeching of Ginoza‘s metal arm against the countertop. He groaned loudly as he finished off inside Ginoza, his fingernails slicing harshly into the younger man‘s shoulders.

He pulled his now flaccid cock out, slipped the condom off; then emptied its contents into Ginoza‘s hair.

His semen was warm and sticky and burned when it dripped into his eye — he dropped his head onto the cool surface of the counter, humiliated, defeated, shame crawling over his skin, sobbing uncontrollably because everything was too much; the pain and the spikes of pleasure and the crushing presence of the man behind him and his own erect length trapped between his thighs —

his hands were freed, and Tougane spun him around again, their faces maybe an inch away from each other. He brushed the wet strands out of Ginoza‘s eyes, gave him a look of approval and, at the same time, disgust; then pulled him into a cold embrace.

_You‘re mine. I marked you, and now I own you._

The younger man ignored the teeth savagely teasing his left earlobe. Instead, he buried his face on Tougane‘s shoulder — the sharp scent of sweat and ash now more prominent than ever — still sobbing, rain streaming down his cheeks; he clang onto his captor as though it were the only way to escape.

_Don’t let me go, because if you do, I‘ll lose myself forever._

He was very aware of his hard cock poking into Tougane‘s groin. It didn‘t come as a surprise when he cupped it with one hand, his thumb teasingly circling the tip. Ginoza gasped out in need, desire flowering deep inside of him; and the older man chuckled lowly, stepping away to let Ginoza drop to the floor, back leaning against the counter, then squatting down next to him.

„You want to come too?“, he asked, his voice giving away the smug smile on his lips even as Ginoza kept his eyes shut.

The weight of being dependent on someone else in such a way let panic arise once more.

Tougane picked up the pace as Ginoza‘s breathing constantly grew shallower, eliciting a small moan; then he stopped and withdrew his hand alltogether.

„Go ahead, ask for it.“

It physically hurt at this point; Ginoza was on the very edge of climaxing, the need for release drowning out whatever little self-respect had been left inside of him —

„Please.“

„Please what?“

Moments stretched into minutes, seconds became eternity.

„Let me ... come. Please. _Please_ —“

Finally, Tougane had mercy with him, dark brown eyes clinging to Ginoza‘s skin as he came, shaking, mouth open, silent tears still streaming down his face as the older enforcer‘s fingers patiently wrung his release out of him.

The minutes that came after were white, forgotten — it felt as though he had been falling and then broken apart, laying on the ground in pieces that nobody would collect and piece together once more.

The metal of the kitchen‘s counter behind him was cold, he realized, and suddenly there was Tougane again, fully clothed, towering over his naked, abused body, ordering him to clean himself up — he stumbled into the bathroom and stared into the mirror for a long time, trying to attach a name to the face he was seeing, trying to _feel_ himself again — he splashed cold water into his eyes, knowing that it was useless because he couldn‘t just clear the pictures from his mind, couldn‘t just delete the sensations of skin touching his, of vicious teeth ripping him apart, of _that man_ taking his virginity and his feelings and claiming them as _his_.

He stepped out the door again, retrieving his clothing from the floor and putting it on automatically. There was smoke lingering in the air again, of course there was, because nothing had just happened that would ruin an individual‘s life forever.

This was just the world, spinning as fast and steady as it always did.

When he left the apartment, he felt empty. No more words had slipped into the space between them because there was nothing to say anymore.

  
  


:::

Ginoza didn’t manage to get the stickiness out of his hair for some days after that, which was noticed. It had always been him to look after his hair the most diligently.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments keep me writing!
> 
> @ ginoskanshikan on twitter


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